


you, my everything

by pipecleanerFlowers



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Depression, F/M, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Manipulative Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipecleanerFlowers/pseuds/pipecleanerFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it’s that Kaito doesn’t care (that he stopped caring long ago, that he doesn’t particularly remember the last time he really cared) enough to protest when he finds himself once again pushed up against the wall after a couple shots and a line about “getting away from those losers” (or something like that).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. let go

**Author's Note:**

> remember this fic? I posted it last year, but then deleted it. and now I'm reposting it after a lot of editing.
> 
> updates might be slow, but the story itself is mostly completed. so no worried about an unfinished fic there!

Maybe it’s that Kaito doesn’t care (that he stopped caring long ago, that he doesn’t particularly remember the last time he really cared) enough to protest when he finds himself once again pushed up against the wall after a couple shots and a line about “getting away from those losers” (or something like that). Kaito just needed a hand to pull him away and he was happy to be gone, away from the laughter that didn’t echo through his chest and the smiles that never reached his own lips.

Vector kisses him and he remembers the first time, all teeth and clumsy and rough. He thinks about how unromantic this is, but neither of them have been known to hold themselves to high expectations or romantic ideals.

He tries to remember why he always lets this happen. He figures it’s because he’s used to being used.

Vector’s tongue is running along his teeth now and Kaito moans into him, forgetting about the hand that’s pressing his wrist painfully against the chafing brick wall and the rain that’s started to fall. It’s not pouring, but he can feel it, a chill shivering through his bones as a draft passes through the alley. Vector pulls him closer, fingers gripping in behind his shoulder blades as he begins sucking on Kaito’s neck.

\+ + + + +

Kaito wakes up the next day and his head pounds. He didn’t have a hangover, he barely touched the beer Alit slid his way, but he feels like death. Sticking his arm out of the warm sheets, he reaches for the thermometre on his bedside table and sticks it in his mouth, waiting for the beep. It’s not high enough to warrant a sick day, but a glance at the clock says he’ll be late to Astronomy anyway.

It doesn’t matter, Kaito decides as he stares up at the ceiling. Mizael will email him the notes like he always does. He doesn’t need to go. The walls can’t judge him.

Rolling over, he tries not to think about the new marks on his neck, and falls asleep to the sound of the rain hitting his window.

Someone knocks at his apartment door at noon, waking Kaito up again and rattling his headache. He groans and pushes himself up, wondering when the two steps it takes to get him standing on the floor got so difficult. It takes a moment for him to gather himself up enough to throw the warm cocoon of a blanket he’s wrapped himself tightly within onto the floor, but he does it with only some regret because when he answers the door, it’s Vector. He’s got bento boxes.

“Didn’t see you in astronomy today,” he says.

Kaito’s brow furrows in confusion. “You take astronomy?”

Vector laughs and shrugs as he barges in and sets the boxes on the tiny coffee table. “Mizael takes it and I crash the lecture sometimes,” he explains shortly before snapping a pair of chopsticks and holding them out to Kaito. “He says you’re in the class too, but I’ve never seen you.”

Kaito takes the chopsticks if only because he is kind of hungry. He hasn’t eaten for… he looks at the clock that flashes 12:06PM at him in bright red LED and remembers his terrible excuse for a lunch at around eleven the morning prior.

Vector takes a seat on the couch and breaks his own chopsticks before digging into his lunch. Kaito stands idly by for a moment, dazed, before joining him.

“So did you skip?”

“Yeah, I was feeling sick.”

Vector shrugs. “You definitely look it. Maybe making out in the rain wasn’t such a good idea… but people do it in shitty romcoms all the time.”

Kaito looks down at his bento box. “Like I care.”

Vector grins again. “You’re right, I’d still fuck you.” He grabs the remote from behind Kaito, leaning in close and licking his lips before whispering, “Right now, on the couch.” His fingers brush over Kaito’s cheek. An involuntary shudder climbs up his spine.

Before he can respond, Vector shrugs and backs off, picking up his chopsticks again. “Maybe after we eat. I’m starved.” And with that said, he promptly switches the TV on, flipping through Kaito’s Netflix account and picking a random B movie.

Halfway through his meal, Kaito can’t help but ask: “Are you going to break up with her?” If his voice wavers, he ignores it.

Vector laughs, obviously amused as he turns away from second-rate movie effects and looks at Kaito with an arched eyebrow. “Who told you I wasn’t?” He shrugs and slides a hand over Kaito’s thigh. “So, want to break in this couch?”

“It’s old.”

“Have you ever fucked on it?”

Kaito pretends to think about it, but he knows the answer. “No.”

Vector smirks and flicks the TV off. “Alright then, we’re breaking it in.”

As Vector puts his finished bento box down on the coffee table and straddles him, fingers sliding into his hair and hot breath blowing on his lips, Kaito wonders if Vector’s girlfriend knows about him.

\+ + + + +

Kaito’s still numb when Droite calls him the next day. She carries most of the conversation while Kaito lets her voice drift through his room on speaker as he stares up at the ceiling. Tries not to think about how Vector didn’t leave until late into the night. About how opening his window helped with the scent of sex, but now he’s freezing as he lays in old sheets he should probably change.

“Your brother’s fine, and he’s doing really well in school. The teachers all love him. Gauche went to the parent/teacher interview because I got called in to work, and you know how your father is with his research. He’s apparently on the verge of a breakthrough so he didn’t want to leave the lab, but Haruto didn’t mind.” Droite pauses for a moment and he can hear her sigh. “But Kaito, how are you?”

His brow furrows because she always asks it hopefully, as if the answer has changed since the last time. “I’m fine.”

“Fine is vague. You said you’ve been taking your meds, are they working?”

Kaito’s hesitant to answer that one because no, they’re not, and the side-effects are shitty. “As good as the doctor said they’d be.”

“Should I book you another appointment?” Droite asks, and he knows that she’s seen right through him. “I can come up to Heartland on Friday and bring you home for the weekend. We can get you checked out again.”

Kaito vaguely thinks about whether he'll be missed this weekend. Not really... He could sacrifice his Sunday bar night. No one would be disappointed if he didn’t go. “Okay. I’m done classes at three thirty on Friday.”

“I’ll be there at five.”

“See you then.”

“Take care, Kaito.”

And it hurts, because she means it.

\+ + + + +

Kaito skips call on Friday. It's too much effort to go and he’s too exhausted even after twelve straight hours of sleep, but he doesn’t care. His bed is too warm to leave. His walls can’t judge him.

He peeks out from under his covers to check his alarm clock, bright red LED piercing his eyes with the time. It’s one o’clock. He’s got four hours until Droite arrives. His suitcase is already packed, has been for days, so he doesn’t need to worry about it. He rolls over and tries to go back to sleep.

He hears a knock at the door soon after and groans, only rolling off of his bed when the knocking becomes persistent. He crawls out of bed, trudges toward the door, and opens it, free hand shoving hair out of his face as he does. It’s Vector.

“You’re leaving for the weekend and didn’t bother to tell me?”

Kaito frowns. "What does it matter to you?" He doesn't remember telling anyone about that. No one ever brought it up, so it just never--

Vector shoves past him into the apartment, shoulder clashing with his. Kaito feels the dull ache even moments later when Vector has already seated himself down on the couch. He's glaring at him from under a furrowed brow that makes Kaito feel small even though he's the one standing.

"It fucking matters, Kaito."

"Thanks, I gathered as much," Kaito responds, closing the front door before joining Vector on the couch, leaving only intimidating inches between them. "Did you have anything else to say before I have to leave?"

"How long?"

"Till Monday. I'll be back in time for classes."

"What's so important back there that you have to go?"

Kaito pauses, fighting the urge to snap out "my sanity" because Vector doesn't know about Haruto or Droite or Gauche. He doesn't know about his medicine. He doesn't know about his life outside of this apartment and the bar they always go to with everyone on Sunday of all nights. He doesn't know anything.

"What’s over there that’s more important than what’s here?" Vector grinds out impatiently. Kaito wants to say so many things; his brother, his doctor, his peace, and his quiet. His old friends.

"Something Yuma invited me to," Kaito says, but he knows it was the wrong thing to say when Vector's scowl deepens.

"Yuma, huh?" he says, without a hint of the forced kindness that it usually has when Yuma is involved.

"Yeah." Kaito's voice comes out quieter, much quieter, and he stares at the hands in his lap. "Nothing special." **  
**


	2. for what it's worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the second chapter! enjoy and stuff?
> 
> I'm posting them shorter this time bc I think the pacing's a little better that way.

Kaito decides to go through his routine, if only for show, because Vector’s not leaving and acting normal is easier than trying to crawl back into bed when he knows Vector will only follow him into it. He dumps cereal into a bowl that’s clean enough and suddenly feels Vector’s hands skim his sides. He shivers.

“Not gonna offer me any?” Vector asks.

“Did you want some?”

“No.”

“Then don’t be a dick.”

Vector lets out a laugh, arms sliding around Kaito’s waist. “Don’t you know that’s all I’m good for?”

Kaito frowns. “Nothing else?” he asks, setting the box down on the counter and grabbing the carton of milk.

“Well. Maybe cheating.”

Kaito can feel Vector’s breath on his neck, lips next to his ear, and tries not to react. “So you haven’t yet?”

“Nah. I don't see the need to yet.” Vector presses his lips to the crook of his neck. “Are you mad?”

“No,” Kaito says, and he supposes he doesn’t really have the right to be either. “Get off, I need to eat.”

Vector pulls away and sits down at the table with him. Kaito finishes his cereal quickly, and he hadn’t realized just how hungry he was. Vector’s still watching him, gaze sharp even as Kaito’s throwing his dishes into the pile in the sink.

“I won’t break it off until you stop seeing Yuma,” he says finally. “Does that seem fair?”

Kaito grimaces. “I’m not seeing Yuma.”

“Promise?” Vector asks, holding out his pinky and watching Kaito with narrowed eyes from across the table.

“I’m not seeing Yuma,” he repeats.

“You haven’t promised it yet.”

“I thought we already went over this. He’s dating someone else now.”

“You seem upset about it.”

Kaito feels his nails dig into his palms. “I’m fine with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck off.”

Vector clicks his tongue and sighs. “Oh Kaito, you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not--”

In a matter of seconds, Vector’s up on his feet and kissing him and the rest of Kaito’s sentence is lost in a moan.

“Until I’m the only one you think about, I’m not breaking up with Rio,” Vector hisses. “So kiss me back." It lilts like a question, but Kaito knows it's not. Not really.

He closes his eyes right before their lips touch again, in time to watch flicker of amusement in Vector's eyes that he has no time to think about. Vector's hands are tangled in his hair and roaming the skin beneath his shirt only seconds later. It isn't too long before Kaito’s being lifted onto the counter, feels Vector's tongue swipe across the slit of his lips. As always, he obliges.

Soon the kisses spread to his neck, to the insides of his elbows, and his hips, as his clothes are slowly pulled off one by one and thrown to the floor, leaving Kaito mostly bared. The only thing Vector's taken off is his jacket.

Vector's fingers dig into the hem of Kaito's sweatpants and he begins palming him. Kaito groans, wondering if this routine will ever stop, if he'll ever say no, if Vector will ever get bored. The unanswered questions dissipate as his pants slide further down from around his knees to around his ankles and Vector's lips wrap around him.

Kaito wonders if he treats his girlfriend with the same reverence before allowing himself to forget about the rest of the world for a little while.

\+ + + + +

Vector leaves when Droite arrives, at five on the dot. Kaito sees him off as Droite starts working on the pile of dishes in his sink, and once the door has shut, she glances up from the sink to watch Kaito.

“Who’s he?”

“Vector, a friend.”

“You sure he’s just a friend?” Droite asks him, gesturing to his neck.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, reflexively going to touch the marks. “I’m sure.”

Droite gives him a look that he doesn’t want to see (but he needs to and he does all he can to ignore it). “Okay, whatever you say. All packed? Did you need any help?”

“No, it’s in my room,” he says, turning to go and get it. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

She follows him anyway and he regrets not having cleaned at all.

“Haruto’s gonna be asking about your exciting university life.”

Kaito grunts.

“That’s what he calls it,” Droite says. “I haven’t told him much.”

“The less he knows, the better,” Kaito says, and Droite pins him with a pitying look.

“You’ll have to tell him at some point.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Her brow furrows at him as he heaves his suitcase out of the closet. “It does. He should find out from you before he finds out from some slip of the tongue elsewhere.”

“No one knows.”

“Vector sure acted like he did.”

“He just thinks I’m boring, he doesn’t know anything,” Kaito says, but he still wonders how Vector knew he was leaving today. He drags the wheeled suitcase out of his room and back into the living room. “Why do I need to prove anything to you anyway? It’s not like you’re even here.”

Droite follows him out and watches as he ties up his Converse. “I try to be.”

Kaito grimaces. “Let’s just go.”

The car ride is quiet except for the radio that keeps devolving into static. Droite doesn’t talk much, and he’s relieved because he thought he might get a lecture. Only when they're on their way down the ramp from the highway into country roads does she finally speak up.

“So… what are you going to do about Haruto?”

Kaito shrugs, leaning his head against the flat of his seatbelt and watching as her hands turn the steering wheel left and then right. He can see her lips, set in a tight line, from the corner of his eye.

“What do you think I should do?” he asks.

She sighs. The song on the radio changes.

They pull into the driveway, and the cottage looks the same as it always has. But emptier.

“He’s not home yet?” Kaito asks.

“No, he won’t be home for another couple hours. Gauche took him out.” Droite parks the car and passes him her phone to show him recent texts from Gauche and he nods.

“Good,” he says, almost too quietly.

“Do you need any help bringing your stuff in?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the office if you need me.” She hands him the car-keys and pops the trunk open, leaving him to it as she gets out of the car and walks up the steps.

Kaito sits there for a while longer, watching Droite as she unlocks the door and lets herself in. He stares at the cottage, so familiar to him and yet a distant memory. Everything looks exactly the same as it had when he’d first moved out, to Heartland City, to university. Except the flowers. Droite always plants different perennials each year. Something about butterflies…

The seatbelt is beginning to dig into his neck, so he unbuckles himself and slowly gets out of the car. His joints ache and everything hurts as he walks around to the back of the car and heaves his suitcase out.

The countryside is duller than he remembers from his last visit, which had been duller than the visit before. Maybe it’s the lack of neon lights that he’s used to. Or streetlights in general. Maybe it’s just the overcast weather. He forces his shoulders back, inhales, and exhales. At least the air is the same, fresh and clearing. He drags the suitcase inside and ignores the smiling pictures on the walls up the staircase.


	3. you were my hometown when

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was super hard to edit because I pretty much rehauled most all of it, so I hope you enjoy!

The barreling hug that Kaito’s wrapped in by an excited Haruto brings a smile to his face, the first real one in weeks. He ruffles his brother’s hair and lets himself be pulled into the living room. Gauche’s laughter trails after them and Kaito thinks for a moment that he can do this. He can be normal for a weekend, just for Haruto.

He won’t have to tell him anything. Yet.

Haruto dives into telling Kaito stories about high school, his teachers, his classmates. He’s only a freshman, but he’s so enthusiastic and hopeful. Kaito prays that never leaves him.

\+ + + + +

“So, how are they working?” Gauche asks when he swerves into the parking lot.

“They’re not,” Kaito says, getting out of the car as soon as Gauche has parked and wondering why Droite couldn’t have driven him instead (but he knows she has a job, a career, and Gauche doesn’t work Saturdays, so he’s stuck with him).

They sit down after a series of questions from the front desk. Kaito picks out a pair of seats in the corner of the waiting room away from the lady with the sneezing child and the old man who wheezes every breath.

“So, new meds? Higher dose?”

“I dunno.”

The wait is long and boring and Kaito doesn’t have his headphones to tune out Gauche’s quiet chatter about the kids in the class he’s been subbing for or the painful wheezing from across the room. He takes to staring out of the window, away from everyone else.

“So, how’re classes going?”

Kaito’s jaw sets, and Gauche frowns.

“You’re back to skipping.” It’s a statement more than a question and Kaito can feel waves of judgement in his direction. He wishes he was back in his room.

“So?”

“We’re paying money for that shit, Kaito.”

“Then tell me to drop out.”

“Fuck no!”

The lady glares at him, gesturing toward her sneezing kid. Kaito smirks. Gauche coughs into his fist, embarrassed.

“How do you not do that in front of your students?”

“Shut up…”

\+ + + + +

Kaito spends the rest of the day in his old room, the one he’s only spent summers in for the past three years, and it hasn’t changed one bit since he left high school, left his only friends and the only happiness he vaguely knew. Card tins stack the shelves of his bookcase along with old, worn notebooks he used to vent in, attempt to write deep poetry in. It all sounds like cliche garbage now, but he pulls one out anyway and flips to a random page, eyes grazing over words that no longer make any sense.

Night hits eventually, shutting him into darkness, and he flicks on his phone. It pierces his eyes with text notifications. All from Vector.

_< <so how’s yuma?>>_

_< <i bet his new boytoy is a total tool>>_

_< <kinda like u, huh? ;)>>_

Kaito tosses his phone behind him, hearing it clatter and thud to the floor behind his bed, and tries not to think.

\+ + + + +

On Sunday, while Haruto’s at his piano lessons with Gauche and Droite is out running errands, the doorbell chimes. Kaito looks up from his bowl of afternoon cereal and almost blows it off till he hears insistent knocking. It’s too familiar, and he tries to ignore the tug at his feet that’s telling him to answer.

“Hey! Kaito? I heard you were home for the weekend!”

Before he can begin to process it, he’s abandoned his chair and his hand’s turning the doorknob.

“Kaito! Oh my gosh, I thought Kotori was lying when she texted me you were here?” Yuma babbles at him before he can even get a ‘hello’ in. “Can I come in? How are you?”

“I’m alright,” Kaito says, stepping aside and letting Yuma bound over the threshold with his bright red Heelys. “How are you?”

Kaito tries to breath, but it’s hard when Yuma’s wrapping him in a tight bear hug that lasts too long (and ends too soon).

“I missed you. So much.”

Kaito can hear him, right beside his ear, desperately happy. It takes all he has not to say it back.

When he pulls away, hands lingering on Kaito’s shoulders for a moment before dropping to his sides and into the pockets of his hoodie, he smiles shyly up at him through dark lashes. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure,” Kaito says before he can catch himself. “Just, let me get changed?”

“Yeah, yeah! Of course!”

Kaito trudges up to his room, trying to calm the pounding of his heart that’s too uncomfortable in his chest. Stares at the meds he forgot to take this morning, that he should probably take now, and he dry-swallows one before grabbing clothes from his suitcase on the floor, digs his phone from out behind his bed. Tries to steady his heart again, tries to take deep breathes.

Yuma’s still waiting for him at the door when he gets back down, and he links their fingers together before leading Kaito into the biting cold of the wintry countryside.

\+ + + + +

Kaito remembers this route, the one he used to walk with Yuma and Ryoga and sometimes Kotori too. Sun in the sky, laughter in the air, and Yuma was always babbling beside him about anything and everything. About moving to the city, or touring the world. About the new artefacts that his dad brought back from his latest trip, or how annoying his older sister Akari was being now that she was a bona fide journalist in Heartland City.

“How's university? You’re almost done, right?” Yuma asks, bright smile on his lips and a blush on his cheeks from the cold

“This year, and next year. Then I’m done,” Kaito responds. “How’s college? You just started, must be exciting.”

“It’s so cool!” Yuma grins. “Totally not the scary place our high school teachers always told us it’d be. Plus Shark’s there! We took an elective together because he thought it would be fun, one way to see each other at school since we don’t have a lot of free time now with both of us there.”

“You don’t like it?” Kaito guesses, trying to ignore the tug of hope.

“Like what?”

“Nothing.”

“So, how’s Kotori? I haven’t gotten to Skype her lately, since we’re both so busy.”

“She’s dating someone.”

“Alit, right?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool. And she’s doing really well, her grades last semester were stellar, as usual.”

Yuma smiles. “High five her when you get back for me!”

“Sure.”

They’re almost back from their circuit, a corner away from Kaito’s cottage, and Yuma’s pace slows down. His brow creases for a moment before he shakes his head and looks down toward their hands, so close together. Finally, when they’re at Kaito’s door again, he grabs hold of Kaito's hand, stopping them in their tracks, and stares into his eyes, a seriousness within them that Kaito's only witnessed once before.

"Kaito, I--"

"Yuma, we're over."

Yuma blinks and Kaito can see the start of tears building up and immediately feels his stomach sink. "But Kaito, this isn't about that. Well, maybe a little, but I just wanted to ask... are you okay?"

Kaito should've expected it, but he hadn’t. It was the question of the weekend. Droite, Gauche, Haruto, his doctor… and right now, Yuma. “I’m f--”

"And don't lie, I know when you're lying."

Kaito’s brow furrows. “Yuma, you need to stop caring about me when you have Ryoga now.”

“No.” His voice is shaky but resolute, and Kaito knows that he won’t be able to change anything. "I still love you.” The words feel like ice even though Yuma’s voice is sincere. He’s everything Kaito doesn’t want to want so badly anymore and it hurts too much.

Yuma plows on, “And I'll always be here for you, and I want you to call me when you get back."

“Why should I?”

"Because knowing you, I won't see you again until the summer. So… call me. When you get back to the city."

"Yuma--"

"Please?" The way his hands clutch his, voice lilting, Kaito can’t say no.

Kaito exhales. “Okay. I will.”

The next thing he knows, Yuma's on his toes, with lips on his, and he's kissing back with the kind of vigour he thought he'd lost for him along with everything else.

"I'm sorry. I know. But I just..."

"It's okay," Kaito says, because he’s trying to convince himself more than anything else. Trying to shove Vector out of his thoughts and give himself this one moment.

Yuma looks as conflicted as he is, but Kaito feels like he has to end this before it can go anywhere. Before he falls back.

He unlocks the door. "Bye, Yuma.”

"I love you, Kaito,” Yuma says, rushed.

Kaito turns away, ignoring the echo in his head. “You shouldn't,” he says, before shutting the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, comment and tell me what you liked! :)


	4. close the door again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved around a lot of things to make this chapter work with the rest of the new narrative, so I hope you enjoy it! :)

Monday has Droite driving him back to Heartland City. She hums along to the radio this time, and Kaito dozes off for the most part, eyes blinking open when they reach the borders of the Heartland U campus. She drops him off just outside the main tower.

“I’ll see you during the winter holidays?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll take your stuff back to the apartment. Try to pay attention in class.”

“Sure.”

Neither are that good at saying goodbye, so they don’t bother. Her car merges back into traffic and he stands there, bookbag slung over his shoulder, debating whether to skip before deciding, well, he’s here anyway. Might as well. He turns to enter the tower, navigating the hallways that have become familiar over the years, and stops in front of the door to his lecture. He’s three minutes early according to his phone. All the seats near the back are probably taken. He wonders where Mizael has taken to sitting, if their usual spot has been taken.

It hasn’t, and Kaito recognizes the blonde wing of hair in the third row from the back, near the wall. He takes a breath and makes his way over.

“Hey,” he says, taking the seat next to him. Mizael looks up from his cell, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Fancy having you around for once,” he replies with a smile. “Heard you went home over the weekend?”

“Yeah,” Kaito says. “Haruto missed me,” he lies, “so I figured I’d visit. Check in.”

“Sounds nice. How was it?”

Kaito shrugs. “It was okay,” he says, pushing Yuma out of his head. “Had some home-cooking, which was nice for once when I’ve been living off of cereal and instant-ramen.”

“Nice, nice… Oh, by the way,” Mizael starts rummaging through his messenger bag, “I have all the notes you’ve missed. Here,” he says, passing him a bright red binder. “It’s all my notes, photocopied and dated and everything.”

Kaito flips through it, forces a smile. “Thanks. Hopefully with this, I can save myself from flunking out entirely.”

“Call me if you need help with any of it.”

“Okay.”

The lecture is boring and the professor repeats word for word what’s on the slides. Kaito could’ve stayed home. He could’ve skipped. The professor always posts the slides online anyway. Kaito glances at his phone that’s telling him there’s twenty minutes left and wonders if he could just slip out. Mizael wouldn’t care. Probably.

The professor finally lets the class go and Kaito starts packing up his stuff.

“Wanna go for Starbucks? I can fill you in on what you missed in Thermal Physics,” Mizael offers. “And before you say no, trust me. You missed a lot. I have about an hour before my next class, so...”

“Sure.”

The trek to the on-campus Starbucks is a short one because it’s close to the Sciences building. Vector’s waiting outside the lecture hall when they get out and when Mizael tells him to buzz off, he tags along anyway with a grin.

“So Kaito, how was your weekend?” Vector asks. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up to class. Miza’s been telling me all about how many you’ve skipped.”

“Like I care.”

Vector smirks. “So… did you see Yuma?”

Before Kaito can come up with an answer, Mizael interrupts, “Don’t you have a lab or something due tomorrow?”

“I never do them anyway,” Vector says with a shrug. “So anyway, about--”

“They’re worth like thirty percent of your fucking mark, asshole,” Mizael interrupts. “Do you want to fail?”

“Whatever, I’m talking to Kaito--” Vector cuts off suddenly, eyes seeming to have caught something. Kaito glances over to the direction his head turns. It’s a girl, with long violet hair and long legs, barely covered in tights and a miniskirt. She’s… beautiful.

Vector smirks and walks away, toward her. “Hey babe!” is the last thing Kaito hears him say and it makes his heart drop.

Mizael drags him over to the counter at the Starbucks, muttering “finally” under his breath before he orders for the both of them. Two green teas for the both of them, though Kaito’s hardly paying any attention to the transaction at all. Vector’s twirling a piece of the girl’s hair, saying something to make her laugh. He’s never met her or seen her, he only ever knew she existed.

“That’s Vector’s girlfriend,” Kaito says quietly as Mizael leads him over to the other counter to wait for their drinks.

Mizael shrugs. “Seems like it. None of us have actually met her. Except Durbe, apparently.” The barista sets down two cups and Mizael gestures for Kaito to take his as he picks up his own, careful not to spill any. He glances over at the two. “You know, considering the only thing he’s ever noted about her to us is that, and I quote, ‘her tits are great,’ I figure she fits the bill.”

Kaito’s brow furrows as he watches them. “Yeah,” he says, but the word is hollow and he feels even worse than he did this morning when Droite ushered him into the car to rush to class. He sips at his tea when Mizael does and hopes that the coldness that has suddenly settled in his stomach might be cured by it.

\--:~:--

It’s when Kaito leaves to catch the bus that Vector’s by his side again.

“So, you never answered… did you see Yuma?” Vector asks.

Kaito still doesn’t know how to answer, wishing Mizael’s class didn’t start so soon (but either way, Vector would’ve followed him home anyway, he supposes). “I did,” he finally says, truthfully.

“And how was he?” Vector continues, and while his voice is still light, the scowl on his lips is crooked.

“Fine. He’s in college with Ryoga now.”

“And he’s happy?”

“Yeah.”

“And you?”

“I’m--”

“Don’t lie.”

Kaito glances toward the road, where the bus is just pulling in. “I don’t know.”

\--:~:--

When Kaito unlocks the door to his apartment, he can feel Vector hovering behind him, tense, irritated, and when he opens it and steps inside, Vector shoves him in and slams the door shut. A moment later has him grabbing Kaito’s shoulder and whipping him around to press a searing kiss to his lips.

“How dare you leave me,” he whispers against Kaito’s jaw, linking their fingers together, “for some idiot like him.”

“I’m sorry--”

But Vector’s already pulling him, dragging him toward his bedroom, and shoving him down onto his bed. “You’re not over him, are you? And here I am, making such an effort for you to like me, bringing you lunch almost every day just to spend time with you…”

Kaito sits up properly. “Vector, I’m so--”

“Show me you’re sorry,” Vector cuts him off coldly.

Kaito already knows what he’s asking for, he doesn’t need an explanation. It’s always the same thing, whenever they fight. Whenever he makes Vector angry.

Vector shoves a knee between his legs and leans down enough that Kaito can feel his breath on his lips. Before Vector can say it, the demand that’s become so familiar, Kaito’s kissing him, hands cupping over his cheeks, fingers sliding in behind his ears and into his bright red hair.

“Much better,” Vector breathes when they part, licking his lips. “I might actually believe you missed me.”

“I did,” Kaito says, but the words feel hollow and empty. “I just--”

“You know what I like about Rio?” Vector says, pushing at Kaito’s shoulders so he’ll lay down. “She doesn't lie like you do.”


	5. one of those people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well this certainly took forever to post. short, but hopefully enough to tide y'all over?

When Kaito rolls out of bed the next afternoon, Vector’s not beside him. He’s almost relieved, until he steps out of his room and sees Vector taking off his shoes at the door.

“Hey babe.” He’s holds up some takeout from the Thai place down the street, complete with the bright lime green containers that blind Kaito. “Borrowed your key to get some lunch.”

“What’d you get?”

Vector shrugs and places the takeout containers on the kitchen table and Kaito follows his lead, sitting down when he does. “Some curry, some noodles,” he says, opening up the containers one by one. They smell amazing. “Your fridge is pathetic, by the way. Why do you even have it?”

“Seemed useful,” Kaito deadpans, and Vector smirks.

They eat silently and Kaito revels in the fact that Vector remembered what he ordered last time. Frowns when he wonders if this means he owes him again.

“Something wrong?” Vector asks, and Kaito doesn’t want to say anything, but Vector nudges him and he sighs.

“I just… forgot to do something this morning.”

“Need a ride somewhere?”

“No.”

Kaito finishes his food and gets up to throw the containers in the trash before going to open up the medicine cabinet. He shuffles through the painkillers and multivitamins for the bottle of pills at the back.

“What’re those for?” Vector asks.

“Nothing.”

He downs it dry and returns to his place next Vector after replacing the bottle in the cupboard. He hopes Vector didn't see the label.

“If you’re fucked up, you can tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“That was a prescription.”

“So?”

Vector actually looks hurt. “You don’t trust me?”

Vector doesn’t trust him either, Kaito thinks as Vector throws his containers in the trash too. “I can’t trust someone who doesn’t trust me.”

“I trust you as long as you stay away from Yuma,” Vector says, biting and cold.

“I have--”

“He makes you lie to me,” Vector growls.

Kaito feels his shoulders hunch up. “I broke up with him. We’re over,” he says. “I haven’t gone back on that.”

Vector relaxes. "Good, because you're taken."

\--:~:--

Just as Kaito wakes up and checks his phone for the time, he realizes something: it’s been days, and Vector hasn’t visited. Not once. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved or confused. He checks his texts, but there are none. No emails, no messages on any platform. His voicemail only has one message on it: it’s Yuma’s.

He frowns and forces himself to sit up, leaning back into the headboard and scrolling through his contacts.

_Ring… ring… ring…_

He almost hopes he doesn’t pick up.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Yuma, you called?”

“ _Kaito!_ ” Yuma’s voice sounds excited, but he quickly corrects himself as he mutters somewhat angrily, “ _You never called, I was worried._ ”

Kaito glances outside at the falling snow and tries to count the days since he left. Monday wasn’t too long ago… “What day is it?” he asks.

“ _Friday._ ”

“Oh.” Nearly a week, then.

“ _Asshole…_ ” Yuma mumbles. “ _How are things?_ ”

Kaito yawns. “I just got up and I’m about to go back to sleep.” He can imagine Yuma making a face at him, in complete judgment of how Kaito could waste such a beautiful day. He remembers how Yuma used to burst into his room and jump on his bed and make noise until he got up, letting Haruto join in the ritual.

“ _No way! Get out of bed and make yourself some yummy food! Or go out for a walk. It’s always nice walking when it’s snowing all soft like this!_ ” Yuma declares.

Kaito takes another look outside and could only imagine how cold it would be if he followed through. “I’ll pass. How are you?”

" _I'm okay! School's going well. Er, class actually starts in a couple minutes--_ ”

“Go. Don’t skip on account of me.”

“ _Yeah, yeah, I’m going. It’s my elective with Shark!_ ”

“Have fun.”

When Kaito hangs up, he tries not to be disappointed.


	6. do you know the panic

Mizael stares at Kaito more than he pays attention to the slides their professor is going through. Kaito ends up taking most of the notes in an effort to pretend that he can’t see the same kind of concern that’s always on Droite’s face on Mizael’s instead. Vector is on Mizael’s other side, leaning back into the lecture hall benches and smirking for who the hell knows why.

Kaito shudders before looking back up at the slides and attempting to draw out a diagram. Mizael frowns in his peripheral vision and two seconds later Kaito’s notebook and pen are sliding out of his hands and Mizael takes over. His neat cursive fills the page and Kaito frowns as he realizes just how shaky his own writing looks in comparison.

“You look so fucking stressed,” Mizael mutters as he takes a moment to clip the notebook into his clipboard before finishing off the terrible diagram. “You need a drink.”

Kaito shrugs, uncurling himself from his hunched position and trying to relax. “Maybe.” His voice croaks and Mizael scrunches his nose slightly.

“Maybe some tea.” A beat, then, “I’m treating you to Starbucks when this is over.”

Kaito has no complaints about that.

The professor dismisses the class twenty minutes early since they are ahead of schedule and Mizael immediately pulls Kaito up. “Let’s go, I’m buying you tea.”

Vector disappears, probably skipping another lecture or seminar or whatever he does after crashing their Astronomy class, and Mizael lets out a breath.

“Thank fucking god, he grates on my nerve,” he says as he leads the way to the campus Starbucks. Kaito wonders how curses always slip from Mizael’s lips without sounding vulgar like they do with Vector.

“Same,” he responds, and they join the lineup. He realizes with a start that the barista on cash is familiar, the same girl with long violet locks, this time pulled into a low bun underneath her uniform visor. He stares at the floor, eyes tracing the tiles, and wonders if she’ll know just by looking at him.

“What do you want?” Mizael asks, unaware of the way Kaito’s heart is palpitating in his chest.

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

Mizael orders and Kaito takes to staring at the desserts in the display case, looking everywhere but at Rio even when she smiles and asks if they’re Vector’s friends, recognizing them from a little while ago.

“Friends? That’s a pretty strong word,” Mizael says. “More like our resident asshole, but we’ll take that.”

She laughs as she inputs their order and picks up two _grande_ cups. “He can be a handful sometimes, that’s for sure. Your names?”

Mizael glances over to Kaito and he hopes he doesn’t look as pale as he feels. “You can put them both under Miza.”

“That really your name?”

“I got tired of spelling it out.”

She smiles, brighter still. “I’m sure most regulars do.”

Mizael taps his card against the debit machine and they shuffle over to the waiting area. Silence takes over for mere moments before Mizael breaks it.

“So, are you okay?” Mizael asks as he adjusts the scarf around his neck. “You seem even worse than this morning.”

“Yeah, fine,” Kaito says, but the words are heavy and take effort. He checks his phone, turns it off, and checks it again. He unlocks it and texts Kotori (have you talked to Yuma lately?) before pocketing it altogether. “I dunno, I guess I’ve just got a headache or something.”

Mizael frowns. “If you say so.” He slides the clipboard out from his bag and unclips Kaito’s notebook. “Here, by the way. Photocopy them for me later?”

“Sure.”

There’s a lot of silence and a lot of Mizael regarding him under a strangely concerned gaze, even more scrutinizing than the one Droite had him under at all hours while he stayed at the cottage. Kaito keeps sipping his tea. Mizael’s frown deepens.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he says. Kaito looks up. “I know something’s wrong and Vector isn’t even here anymore so it’s not like you need to worry about him. He definitely doesn’t worry about you.”

Kaito keeps quiet, eyes falling to the table and lips opening only to take another sip of tea. Minutes like hours pass by as Mizael takes out one of his textbooks, flipping over to a page marked by a bright green sticky note.

As he turns the page, Kaito says quietly, “Vector’s dating Rio.”

“Yes, and?”

Kaito’s throat constricts and he drinks more of his tea. “Vector’s been sleeping with me. Since September.”

Mizael puts down the pen that’s been twirling between his fingers, and he earmarks the textbook before flipping it shut. His eyes shift from concerned to something Kaito doesn’t recognize.

“He’s given you an ultimatum.”

It’s not even a question, and there’s something foreboding about the way he just knows.

“Yeah,” Kaito answers anyway. “He has.”

“Have you found your answer?”

“No.”

Mizael’s brow furrows. “If you can’t, then you need to end this. Not for Rio, but for yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> falls to the floor


	7. just as the light turns on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while on a cruise ship with no wifi, hoping to god that GDrive wasn't lying when it said it would save offline.
> 
> Join me in thanking Google for it's awesome offline services.

The text finally comes late at night, when Kaito’s convincing himself to brush his teeth at the very least before crashing into bed.

_< <why do you ask?>>_

He doesn’t know why he wanted to know, or even why he still does. Asking Kotori about Yuma usually incurred a stream of questions as to whether he was alright, if something had happened.

_< <curious>>_

She knew about them. Everyone in that town did, even if Yuma thought he’d kept it a secret. He was terrible at keeping secrets, especially when his face said literally everything whenever he so much as glanced Kaito’s way. She knows how it all ended too.

_< <mizael’s worried about you>>_

Kaito knows that from the way Mizael’s face had hardened at the mention of Vector, never mind the way his hands gripped his Starbucks cup a bit tighter after the drop.

His phone buzzes in his hands, Caller ID kicking in, not that he needs to read it to know it’s Kotori. He slides his thumb across the screen.

“Hey.”

 _“Did something happen?”_ Straight to the point, as usual.

“Nothing. I just wanted to know if you’d talked to him.”

_“We skyped last night. He mentioned you.”_

Kaito’s throat goes dry. “What’d he say?”

_“You should call him yourself. He’d be happy to hear from you.”_

“That’s why I can’t call him.”

He can hear the grit of her teeth through the receiver. _“Coward.”_

She hangs up.

\--:~:--

It’s been a month. It’s almost reading week and Droite’s been texting, asking if he’s gonna come home for the week. Yuma texts the same thing, but he doesn’t respond, fingers freezing every time he tries because he doesn’t know what to say. But it’s been a month, and Vector still hasn’t visited. Kaito wonders if he’d done something wrong, then wonders if he cares. He wonders if Vector’s given up on him, but he doesn’t know how to feel or even if angry or relieved or upset is the more adequate response. Mostly, he feels numb.

Mizael visits often in his place, crowding his apartment and filling his coffee table with textbooks and pens and sticky notes, telling him that their TA might let him redo some of their assignments if he just asks. He finds out that Kaito’s on medication and sets a reminder on Kaito’s phone for him so he’ll never forget, so he’ll take it on time. He fills Kaito’s cupboards with ten kinds of tea “because tea solves everything” and then proceeds to go through four tea-bags a visit at the very least.

He’s over now, diligently compiling his notes, rewriting them so they aren’t in his quick cursive scrawl. A mug of tea sits across from him on the coffee table, phone next to it with a timer set so Mizael doesn’t forget to actually drink it when it’s finished cooling down -- “Usually in about seven minutes,” Mizael had told him, “that’s when the temperature’s perfect.” It’s like he had it down to a science.

“Wanna go over what you missed in Thermal Physics?” Mizael asks before using his teeth to pull the cap off a highlighter. There’s three pens already open in his other hand, something about colour-coding and studying strategies.

“Sure, why not,” Kaito says, twirling his own pen between his fingers.

“You should really come to class,” Mizael says, poking him with the end of one of his pens. “It’d be a lot easier on you. And me, too. I’m a terrible teacher.”

“You’ve got incredible notes,” Kaito says, pulling his notebook out, the one that only has five lectures of material because he’d slept through the rest, unable to drag himself out of bed to seize any of their lecture days. Even those notes are scratched out, illegible, and probably missing half the slides if the blank spaces mean anything. “All I need to do is memorize them.”

“But then you won’t understand them.”

“Who cares, as long as I pass,” Kaito shrugs.

They study in silence for a while, the only noise the scratching of their pens on paper. Mizael periodically points out parts of his note, adding material from the textbook in the margins for clarification, redrawing diagrams and rewriting formulae.

With Mizael around, Kaito finds his life busier.

\--:~:--

After much coaxing from Mizael, Kaito decides to visit his Astronomy TA. He dreads it as Mizael pushes the call button for the elevator, shifting his weight between his feet and wondering whether Chris will hate him on the spot for never showing up to class (except the first day of lectures, because it was the first day, and even hungover frat boys show up on the first day).

“He’s pretty nice,” Mizael says, “understanding too. Just tell him what you think you need to and he’ll probably let it slide and give you extra credit -- god knows the prof won’t care, he’s so lax.”

“This is still a shit idea,” Kaito says as the elevator doors slide open and they step in.

“What is it about ‘nice, understanding person’ do you not understand?”

“Your idea of a nice person is Durbe,” he says flatly.

“What’s wrong with Durbe?”

He pins Mizael with a deadpan look. “He’s a lamppost.”

“And you’re a couch potato if we’re putting it lightly.”

Kaito wonders if now is a good time to tell Mizael that those pills are for depression and that he’s been without a suicidal episode for about three weeks, and that getting out of bed is easier knowing Mizael’s the one knocking at his door and not Vector, but then the elevator doors open again.

“Oh, hey Chris! We were just about to visit you,” Mizael says, and Kaito’s brow furrows as he draws his eyes up from the tacky elevator carpet to stare directly at the TA he vaguely recognized from that first day back in September, in the lecture room, sitting in the front row.

He had long white hair that was braided and pulled over one shoulder, donned a lab coat, and had reading glasses perched on his nose. “Oh, hello Mizael. Do you mind waiting a few minutes? I really need some coffee and our machine up here is broken.”

“Sure, we can wait! Right, Kaito?”

Kaito blinks. “Uhm. Yeah,” he manages to stutter out.

They step out of the elevator and Chris waves as the doors shut again.

“See? Nice,” Mizael says, as if he’s proven his point within a thirty second exchange.

Kaito pretends not to hear him, heading for Chris’ office instead and ignoring the way his heart pounds in his chest.

\--:~:--

Sitting across from Christopher Arclight in a cramped office with walls filled with books and a desk full of scattered star charts, Kaito begins to regret a lot of things.

For one, he regrets missing his seminars (and to be honest, that is most of his regrets).

“So, what did you want to talk about, uh--”

“Kaito.”

“Yes, Kaito.”

Chris adjusts his reading glasses, violet to match his tie, and Kaito punches the word endearing out of his head because Chris probably hates him, probably thinks he’s a desperate kid who skips class and only realized now, at the end of the semester, that he should probably attempt a last-ditch effort at a decent grade (which was only half true).

“I, uhm…”

Chris smiles in a way that Kaito figures is supposed to be friendly, open, and encouraging. It works, alongside Mizael’s insistent reminders that Chris is a Nice Guy (not ™).

“I’m sorry I haven’t attended any of your classes,” Kaito starts. “I have been going through some… difficult times, and it’s been hard to make it to class.”

“What kinds of difficult times?” Chris asks, and Kaito’s shoulders hunch up. “I only ask because in certain cases, it’s possible that I can help you pass this class regardless of your attendance record and lack of turned-in assignments. For instance, if an immediate family member died, or you fell severely ill?”

“I have severe depression,” Kaito says, and it’s the first time he’s said it to anyone who isn’t Droite or Gauche or his father. “And when the semester started, I was thinking about killing myself.”

He says it like it doesn’t matter, like it’s not himself that he’s talking about, but a stranger. Like a hard fact or statistic instead of his own life.

He watches as Chris takes a breath and clasps his hands under his chin. “Have you used the school’s free mental health services at all?”

“No.”

“Are you on medication?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve been taking it regularly.”

“Yes.”

Chris taps his pen against the pile of papers in front of him, a pensive, stern look on his face that makes Kaito think his situation could be worse, that there might be a way out of having to retake the entire class.

“If you can finish the last three assignments by the next and last seminar session and hand them in to me, I’ll cancel out the rest of your biweekly labs and input your seminar grade as the average of those collective marks,” Chris suggests. “Does that sound doable for you?”

It’s less of a question and more of a written-in-stone “or else,” and Kaito snatches up the chance. “Yeah, that’s… perfect. I can do that.”

“Alright, perfect,” Chris says, lips breaking into a smile that breaks the tension in Kaito’s shoulders. “You can get the assignments from the online Dropbox, and ask Mizael any questions you might have about them. He had perfect scores on all of them, so I’m sure he’ll be sufficient as a guide. Unfortunately I can’t guide you through the process myself, for various reasons, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” Kaito says, feeling like he should say more.

“No problem.”

 

 


	8. i know who i dream of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is anyone even still reading this?

Kaito’s phone vibrates as he and Mizael get onto the elevator back down. Mizael’s congratulating him on his assignment extension, already scheduling in time on his calendar to help Kaito with them and doing his I-told-you-so spiel about Chris being nice and understanding.

Kaito checks the text. It’s Kotori.

_ <<yuma and shark broke up>> _

The world stops and suddenly he feels dizzy.

“Uhm. Mizael?” Kaito says nervously in the middle of Mizael telling him how easy the assignments are. “I can’t do today. I… forgot something. At home. I need to do a thing.”

Mizael gives him an odd look before shrugging. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaito responds distractedly. “I’ll. Yeah. Tomorrow.”

Mizael gives him another look. “Sure. I’ll head to the library then. See you!”

\--:~:--

Kaito spends the bus ride home clutching his phone, staring at the blank screen in case Kotori texts again.

She doesn’t.

He expects a lot of things. He expects Yuma to call -- he always did when important things happened (like when his sister got a job in Heartland, or when his parents left on another excavation, or when he’d lost his pet parakeet, Obomi). He expects Kotori to expand on this bomb she decided to drop on him. He expects to drink at least five cups of tea tonight in a misguided attempt to calm down.

What Kaito doesn’t expect when he gets back home, is for Vector to be on his couch.

“Vector?”

He shuts the door behind him, watching as Vector looks up at him, seemingly in a daze, and drops his bag to the floor.

“Oh. Hey Kaito! How are you?” He pastes on a smile, like he’s happy to see him. His eyes are bloodshot and there’s a cigarette between his fingers, ash dropping onto one of the plates from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Kaito asks warily.

“Visiting you!” Vector responds cheerily, taking a drag.

“I haven’t seen you for a month,” Kaito states. “You never even texted me.”

Vector shrugs. “Neither did you.”

He’s right, but it’s still not an excuse. “You’re full of shit.”

A crooked smirk takes over Vector’s lips, a change from the easygoing smile he’d been faking. “Mizael’s taught you well.”

“So what have you been doing for the last month other than ignoring me?” Kaito asks through gritted teeth. He’s not angry, or even upset. He’s just frustrated because Vector has terrible timing, Yuma has even worse timing, and he’s pretty sure Kotori hates him more than he hates himself.

“Been with Rio.” Kaito expects that to hurt him, but it doesn’t. It just irritates him. “I heard you guys got acquainted?”

“She works at the only Starbucks on campus.”

Vector nods, as if agreeing. “She does, doesn’t she,” he mutters. “So, how’s Yuma?”

“I don’t know.”

“I heard he broke up with Ryoga?”

Something snaps. “How do you know that.”

“A little birdy--”

“Who?” Kaito asks again, feeling rage simmer underneath his skin.

Vector presses his lips together, a paradoxical mixture of glee and dread sparkling in his eyes. “Did you know Rio has a fraternal twin and her last name is Kamishiro?”

\--:~:--

Kaito had only heard about Ryoga’s sister once. He knew she lived in Heartland City, and that was because their parents had divorced, each taking the custody of one child each and separating them as kids. Other than that one short, hushed conversation, and the weekend-long trips he sometimes took up to the city, Ryoga hadn’t mentioned her again.

And yet here she was, unwittingly giving Vector the ammo he needed to push Kaito’s limits.

Vector sways on the couch, giggling at nothing, eyes drawn up to the ceiling. “She’s a lot like her brother, you know…”

Kaito’s not sure what resemblance Vector sees. He’s not sure he wants to know.

Vector tells him anyway: “They like taking away the things you love.”

Kaito feels anger crackling in his veins as his hands tense up, fingers held tightly in crooked lines. “Rio never took anything away--”

“She broke up with me,” Vector interrupts harshly, eyes narrowing and becoming strangely focused. “Do you want to know why?”

The safe answer is no, it’s always no, but Kaito has never been able to say it.

Vector’s gaze never leaves Kaito as he crushes his cigarette into the plate, blows out smoke in a steady, eerily calm stream, and leans back into the couch. “She told me she deserves better.”

“Maybe she does.”

“But do you?”

A beat passes and Vector cracks a grin. “Hey, hey, why don’t you sit with me?”

Kaito doesn’t want to, but his feet start moving automatically. It’s been a month and his habits haven’t broken. He wonders if they ever will. He wonders, for a fleeting moment, if he’s even safe here when Vector’s like this. He sits down, and Vector turns to him and adjusts himself so he’s sitting cross-legged.

“I love you,” Vector says sweetly, sickly.

Kaito finds himself trying to breath properly, to calm his heart down. “No you don’t.”

“But what about everything I do for you?”

“Everything I  _ owe  _ you for,” Kaito says through gritted teeth.

“I think this is the most emotion you’ve ever shown me,” Vector says reverently, brushing a thumb over Kaito’s cheek. “Beautiful--”

“Get out.” His voice cracks, but he doesn’t care.

“Are you gonna run back to him?”

“Get out,” Kaito repeats.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’s cute and sweet and  _ adorable _ ,” Vector continues with a sneer. “God, what a fucking  _ angel _ .”

“What do you want from me, Vector?”

“To remind you what you have here. What we have.”

“What about Rio--”

“What we could still have.”

“I don’t want it.”

Vectors brow furrows. “Because you want to crawl back to him?”

Kaito can’t answer that, not when he still has to parse through the few facts he does actually know, maybe call Kotori (who’ll hang up on him), or call Yuma (who’ll probably answer the phone on the first ring).

“I don’t know,” Kaito says honestly, “but I don’t want this.”

Vector’s expression hardens, hand withdrawing from Kaito’s shoulder. The flicker of the lights in the apartment corridors reminds Kaito that this isn’t the time or place for this conversation, but it’s happening and just like everything else lately, he can’t do much to control it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was rereading this chapter after taking a very long break and basically i scared myself because i forgot i had written that last scene.
> 
> i got fucked up over my own gd plot twist.


	9. this love (will be your downfall)

Vector has never looked so alone. His hands, fingers hovering uselessly over Kaito’s shoulders, won’t quite move away. His red eyes and the staling scent of smoke and the minute tremble of his lips that want to say something and won’t. He’s alone, just like Kaito is, but…

“Tell me something.”

“What,” Vector bites.

Time passes so slowly, so achingly. “What am I to you?”

Lips press over his and it lasts forever. When Vector pulls away, wipes his lips with the back of his hand, Kaito opens his eyes.

“Leave,” he says. “I’ll call you,” he adds after a moment. “In the morning.”

“Promise me.” It’s never sounded so desperate.

“Or you could trust me.”

“Tch.”

“Trust me, Vector.”

Kaito doesn’t move until he hears the door click shut. He breathes. And then he calls Mizael.

\--:~:--

That night, Kaito tries to remember.

What was he like, back in high school, before depression hit him like a freight train that took away his will to even breath? Mizael is puttering around his kitchen, having brought a bag full of groceries and insisting as he stepped over the threshold that he was going to cook Kaito a proper meal and “When was the last time you ate something real, huh?”

Kaito lays on the couch, staring idly at edge of the coffee table, and starts digging through his memories.

But he can’t remember.

He remembers playing Duel Monsters, paying thirty a pop for his Galaxy Eyes and Yuma laughing at him for blowing his paycheque. He remembers Kotori actually liking him, insisting that he come with them whenever he declined Yuma’s invitations to go out with their crew. He remembers Ryoga actually tolerating him, their competitions and his 72-63 win-streak that Ryoga was always trying to beat.

He hasn’t told Mizael yet. He hasn’t said a word about what transpired since he shot off to the bus stop and ran home. He’s not sure if he wants to, but Mizael hasn’t asked yet.

“Hey sleepyhead, here’s dinner,” Mizael says as he sets a plate on the coffee table. Kaito pushes himself up and stares at it.

“Pasta?”

“Mhm. It’s the easiest thing to make. I never said I was a chef.”

“True.”

He sits up and is about to take his first bite when his phone starts vibrating. Kaito stares at it.

“You gonna get that?” Mizael asks, already  sitting back on the couch, legs crossed with his plate in his lap, looking completely at home (something Kaito’s never been able to feel here). He peers over. “Yuma?”

“Um. Yeah.” Kaito reaches for his phone, hand hovering over it as he hesitates, and then finally grabs it. “Hello?”

He feels numb again, but pleasantly, like everything is far away as Yuma’s voice is suddenly in his ear. “Kaito! I can’t believe you actually answered!” He can tell Yuma’s been crying at the way his voice cracks ever so slightly over his words. He can tell Yuma’s trying to keep it together. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

Kaito is calm. Calmer than he’s ever been facing Yuma since their breakup because spoilers already dimmed his shock, passed him through all the necessary reactions and thought processes.

“I… we broke up.”

“Yes, we did.”

“No, I mean! I mean… ah man, um,” Yuma fumbles. “Shark and I. We broke up.”

Kaito knows. It’s been hours now and he knows and he remembers Vector’s desperately pleading eyes that said everything he couldn’t voice out of pride or spite or whatever it was that had him so stubborn.

“You did?” Kaito asks, barely displaying the shock Yuma wants from him. The elation. The relief.

“Yeah. And. Yeah. We broke up.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I was the one who broke up with him!”

Kaito nudges the pasta around in his plate with his fork. Mizael looks at him curiously. “Why did you do that?”

“Because. I don’t know. I wasn’t feeling it?”

“So what are you gonna do now?”

He can imagine it, the way Yuma would blink at a question that took him off-guard. The way that he’d scratch the back of his head and frown and think with his face screwed in concentration. “I… I thought--”

“What?” It’s not cold or cruel or frustrated, it’s just curious.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“You, might not want to? But. I want to be with you again.” Yuma takes a deep breath. “I miss you, Kaito.”

Kaito takes a breath too, pausing before exhaling. “You’re right.”

“Huh?”

“I might not want to.”

Kaito takes the phone away from his ear, pushes down to hang up, and stares at his plate.

“Are you okay?” Mizael asks after a moment.

Kaito looks up at him, feeling a little lighter. “I’m feeling much better already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kaito has people that love him and care for him, even if it's not in the best way.  
> he's starting to recognize it.  
> so am i.


End file.
